#i remembered this little snippet i wrote a while ago

[confuzing]

I woke up at 4 am last night and wrote this SQH with little MBJ snippet before passing the f out again:

SQH wrung his hands. MBJ was still crying. He'd done everything he could think of, making sure the kid wasn't too hot, feeding him, triple checking for injuries-

It wasn't like he was being too loud either. The kid's tears were near silent- just harsh breathy gasps of air in between jags where he just shook, tears streaming down his adorable round baby face.

"Are you sure you aren't hurt?" he asked helplessly. He pressed the back of his hand against MBJ's appropriately cool forehead again, like this time it would reveal the little demon's secrets.

MBJ shook his head, "I want my mama." he said before somehow crying harder.

oh.

oh but...

SQH mentally double checked his MBJ backstory - the very thing he was currently messing up- but no, yeah... He was remembering correctly.

At this point in his life MBJ's mother was already dead.

...

That was just fucking soul crushing wasn't it?

SQH sat down on the floor next to MBJ.

"Oh I'm sorry." he said, not sure if he was apologizing for the situation or his own decision a lifetime ago to write her out of the story quickly. He hadn't even had a good reason. Dead Moms were just a trope. "I'm so sorry she can't be here for you."

He reached out and pulled the little boy into his lap. MBJ flinched again, like he had every time SQH had touched him, like he was expecting the touch to hurt.

That tore at SQH'S tattered soul even more. He didn't trust himself to speak around the lump in his throat so he just hugged MBJ close and rocked him back and forth while stroking his hair and humming thoughtlessly.

After the initial flinch MBJ went utterly relaxed against him, like he was too tired to fight SQH's embrace.

Eventually MBJ's crying stopped and he dropped into the deep sleep of the truly exhausted. If SQH kept up the cuddling even after that it was nobody's business but his.

[avonne-writes]

hi Avonne! do you have any speak peeks of your fwb au? thinking about them today xx

Aww you're right, I should really get back to those boys! I wrote a little snippet for you:

Even before their arrangement began, Gale used to tell Bucky - in that drawling voice he uses when he's amused by the conversation - that he wasn’t shy, he was reserved. To Bucky, those were the same. He remembers nodding along to Gale's explanation dumbly, not getting it at all.

“I'm not anxious.” Gale said back then, propping his face up with a hand, childhood softness still clinging to his jawline. His blue eyes were locked on Bucky’s so intently that Bucky almost missed what came next. “And I don't get embarrassed easily. I just like to be quiet.”

That was years ago.

All this time, Bucky thought he’d figured it out - he thought he understood Gale's quietness and even felt a bit smug explaining Gale's wilder side whenever someone was surprised by it. But now he knows that he wasn't quite there yet.

Because this is the moment when it finally clicks: standing half-naked in Gale's bedroom, holding a monstrous, sparkly dildo that doesn’t even look human while Gale's going through his bedtime routine without a care in the world.

“You can borrow it if you want.” He says, all coquettish in the way he tilts his head and looks at Bucky with teasing, half-lidded eyes.

His eyes flick down to Bucky’s bare chest, then lazily trail back up to his face. He climbs under the blanket and settles down in the middle, apparently not expecting Bucky to want to pursue the “benefits" part of their little agreement tonight. Even though Bucky's literally holding one of Gale's dildos.

“I don't even know what it is.” Bucky says, instead of his knee-jerk response of ‘What the fuck, Gale?’ His voice comes out rough.

“A dildo.” Gale says, placid.

His cheeks don't even pink, while Bucky’s are burning, caught between arousal and the humiliating realization that he thought Gale would be some sexually closed-off flower that he can coax open slowly with his devious skills, when he's actually a venus fucking flytrap. He thought he’d be the one teaching Gale things. It seems like it might be the other way around.

“I know it's a fucking dildo.” Bucky plops down on the edge of Gale's bed, waving the massive pink-purple thing at Gale like it personally insulted him. “What's with the shape?”

Gale lunges for it. He grabs the meat of the toy and tries to pull it out of Bucky's hand, but Bucky tightens his grip on its base, and they end up wrestling for it like two idiots, except it feels less like a joke and more like foreplay. They grapple until Bucky rolls on top and pins Gale to the mattress. They pause for a moment too long, staring into each other's eyes. Breathing together. Bucky loosens his fingers around the dildo, and Gale uses that opportunity to wrench it out of his hand and smack Bucky's ass with it.

“Oh, so that's how we're playing this.” Bucky grins, starting to wrestle with Gale once more. But Gale's no dainty, fragile thing - he knows Bucky's weaknesses and exploits them mercilessly to flip them around and get Bucky on his back. He sits on Bucky’s hips and lays the horrible dildo on Bucky’s bare stomach like a prize.

“It’s a unicorn cock.” He says, his lips curling up in delight and pushing his cheeks rounder when Bucky's face lights up in realization.

“Well, you know, the unicorn is -”

“Your favourite extinct animal.” Gale's smile widens even though he’s clearly trying to suppress it.

Bucky laughs, loud and stupid from the delight racing through him. He wonders if Gale bought the dildo before or after Bucky first shared this ongoing joke with him.

They're threading into unknown territory with this, he feels it, but he can’t stop. He can’t hold himself back. The spark of his attraction feels hot and bright and undeniable, glittering between them like that damn unicorn cock still resting on his stomach. He wriggles an arm free and uses it to pull Gale into a kiss, and for a moment, in his mind, they're not just buddies helping each other out, but something real. Something that feels suspiciously like love.

[you-til-i-die]

wishin’ I could write my name on it

f.odair x fem!reader

summary: a sneak peak into you and finnick’s lives

warnings/content: I wrote and edited this all in one sitting so if it’s absolute shit that’s why<3 district four victor!r, r is said to have throw up a few times, but none of it is graphic. mentions of blood and sex trafficking, cannon-typical shit really, swearing

song: august - ts

wc: 1.9k

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺

You and Finnick have one rule.

Don’t talk about it. Don’t ask about it. Don’t acknowledge it.

When the two of you are together, you can just forget about it. You can hang out on the beaches of District Four and pretend like these aren’t your lives.

But they are.

And it always somehow seeps through the cracks.

It’s in the way Finnick’s eyes are dull and empty the first few days after a trip to the capitol.

It’s in the way your laugh has morphed into a short bark.

It’s everywhere and it’s everything.

There’s no escaping it.

It haunts your dreams, it probably haunts Finnick’s too, even though you’d never ask.

Because that’s the rule. No asking. Ever.

————————————————————————

It was August. The sun seemed to slowly be getting the message that fall was getting nearer, the rays a little less intense then they had been a few weeks ago. The water was even the tiniest bit cooler, soothing a stubborn sunburn on your shoulders.

You were laying on the beach, face down on a towel, trying to ignore the stick of salt drying on your skin. You can’t help but let out a yawn, exhausted from the still persistent heat and trying to win against Finnick in a swimming race all day.

You were so relaxed. Focusing on the waves crashing against the shore. And the presence beside you that you knew was Finnick.

You honestly were about to fall asleep before he speaks. He mentions it so casually, he might as well have been asking what you wanted for dinner.

“Snow needs me in the capitol. I’m leaving on Friday.”

His voice is completely flat, devoid from all of its usual humor. It made you nauseous. You consider asking if he feels the same way, but you don’t. That was the rule. And you know the rules.

You push yourself up onto your elbows to get a good look at him, to try and decipher the look on his face. You could almost always read him. You hadn’t spent four years attached to each other to not learn the subtle mannerisms of the other. But this was different. It always was.

You and Finnick could talk about almost anything together. The games, the fear that you could never seem to shake, the nightmares, the way it was sometimes hard to stomach killing even a fish. But you never talk about this.

You never talk about how Snow will whisk one, or sometimes both, of you away whenever he needs a favor. You never tell him how afterwards you have to scrub your entire body raw before you can even begin to feel clean again. You don’t tell him how the first couple of times you would sob until you threw up, but now you just curl up and do your best to avoid the pit in your stomach.

Well, truthfully, you had talked about it once. But never again.

You had just been crowned victor of the 69th Hunger Games, District Four’s second victor in four years. It was no surprise, really. You were seventeen, and one of the oldest in the arena. You were strong, quick, and smart. So, so smart. You had won through pure trickery, and everyone loved you for it.

It’s hard for you to remember what happened the week after you won. There’s little snippets, of course. Looking down at the blood on your hands, blood that wasn’t yours. The booming of a voice in the arena, announcing that you were the victor. You had won. You did it. You had made District Four proud. And then you threw up.

You must have blacked out afterwards, because the next thing you remember is being back in your suite in the training center, sobbing in Finnick’s arms while he held you. Most of what you can remember is centered around him. Gripping onto his hand like a lifeline while your stylists buzzed around you. Glancing over Snow’s shoulder at him while the president crowned you. Watching him standing in the wings of the stage while Ceasar Flickerman went over a highlight reel of your time in the arena. Finding your way back into his arms on the train. You’re pretty sure Finnick didn’t say more than the same couple words the first week. It seemed to be a constant variation of “I know honey, but you’re safe now. I’ve got you sweetheart.”

It wasn’t until your victory tour that he told you. You doubt he ever would have, if he didn’t know for sure it would happen to you.

He had sat you down on the train after a party in District Two and told you everything. How Snow would practically sell him to people. How he didn’t have a say, and how you wouldn’t either, unless you wanted everyone you loved to be dead. He had grabbed your hands, shaking hand in shaking hand, and apologized profusely. He told you how he would do everything possible to keep you safe, he would offer himself instead of you. But you knew that wouldn’t work. Snow gets what Snow wants, and if Snow wants you to fuck his friends for some sick favor, there was nothing you, or Finnick, could do to stop that from happening.

“Oh.”

“Yah.” Was all Finnick said, refusing to meet you gaze as he stared out at the ocean. He’s working one of the muscles in his jaw and you have to look away before you grab his face and do something stupid.

“When will you be back?” You don’t say it, but you’re sure he understands the meaning. Please say it’ll only be one night. Please tell me they won’t put you through it more than once this time. Please tell me you’ll be back to hold me through the nightmares soon. Please don’t make me wait for you more than I already do.

“I’m not sure. Snow said a couple of days.”

No no no no no no no please no.

You didn’t respond. Scared that if you open your mouth the bile collecting in your throat would spill out.

You just look over at him. Take him in. It’s no wonder why the capitol loves him so much. Although not for his humor, his kindness, his strength, the way he’s always looking out for everyone but himself. None of that. Just because he’s a pretty face. But in the bright, golden sun, you find it hard to disagree with them. He’s all broad shoulders and a strong jawline. Bright green eyes that always seem to shine when they look at you. Sharp teeth hiding behind that perfect fucking smile. Salty hair you wanted to run your fingers through. Credit where credit is due, the capitol knows how to pick a sex symbol.

But you don’t see a sex symbol. Not right now. Right now all you see is the person you want to hold on to, and never let go of. The person you’d throw it all away for, if he asked. The person who seemed to always have another layer for you to work your way into, but you’d be damned if you ever stopped trying to get to the root of him.

You’ve been staring for an embarrassingly long amount of time. Finnick notices, of course, because Finnick notices everything.

“Honey?”

You tear your eyes away from where they had been tracing the veins in his hands. “Hm?”

“You ok?” And there it is. That fucking wolf smile. All sharp canines and slightly raised eyebrows because he knows. He knows he’s got you in between his teeth and he knows you’re happy to stay there because it’s him.

You pause, but just for a moment, trying not to give him the satisfaction of winning, of successfully flustering you. But his eyes are boring into yours and it’s so hard to look away from him, but you do. He wins. He normally does.

“‘M just thinking.”

“What about?” He asks. Flopping down on his side, trying to get on eye level with you because it’s never just enough for him to win, he has to make sure you know that he knows it.

You just roll your eyes at him, there’s nothing else you can do.

“About how we’ve been out here since nine in the morning and it’s after noon now, and you haven’t reapplied sunscreen once.”

It’s his turn to roll his eyes now.

“I don’t burn, honey, you know that.”

“What about that time you were out all day, didn’t put sunscreen on once, and then I had to rub aloe vera on your back for a week because you burned like hell and all of your skin was peeling off?” You ask, smile working its way onto your face. You know you’ve got him. You’re winning now.

He pauses, he doesn’t back down easily. “It was a fluke. A glitch, even.” He says, trying his best to shrug his shoulders even though he’s lying down. He fails. It looks ridiculous. You have to try not to laugh. “I honestly think the sun just had a vendetta against me that day.”

You’re failing at biting back a smile now. “At least let me get your back because there is literally nothing you could say or do to ever get me to help you with a third degree sunburn again.”

He doesn’t say anything. Just makes a big show of groaning and rolling his eyes at you before rolling onto his back.

You’ve won.

“So dramatic? You know that? It’s like being friends with a child.” You say as you root around in your bag for your sunscreen. Trying to ignore the disgusting feeling you know it will leave on your hands as you squirt it out.

He props himself up on his elbows to look at you, surely about to counter with some story about you being much more dramatic than him, before you shove him back down, face in the sand.

“Ow.”

“You’re fine. A little sand never killed anyone.”

You decide to ignore his grumbling, focusing on spreading the sunscreen on his back. However, you can’t ignore the growing pit in your stomach that you know will be there until Finnick’s back from the capitol.

Still, they can’t take this from you. You’ve earned it. You deserve to be here, definitely not checking out your best friend who you know you can’t have.

You lose yourself for a moment. Letting yourself focus on the way his muscles feel under your hands. Maybe, one day, this could be real. The capitol will find new, attractive victors, and they’ll move on. You and Finnick can fade into the background, and just live.

You pull back, and grab the tube again, squirting it directly on his back. You start to rub it in before pausing for a moment, why not?

Quickly, you write your name in the sunscreen on his back. Snow has cameras everywhere. Maybe he’s watching. Maybe he’s not. But either way, at least for a second, you can say mine. All mine. You can’t take him from me, not really.

He feels it, lifting his head up just as you’re wiping away the evidence.

“Are you drawing on my back?”

You flash him your own smile. A little less wolfish, a little more coy.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺

A/n: Hi omg I wrote this in one sitting😭this has just been rattling around in my head for weeks now and I had to get it out lol. Constructive criticism and feedback is always appreciated, I hope you all enjoyed<3

[seasirengirl]

EVERYTHING YOU SEE IS A PART OF YOUR IMAGINATION, EVERYTHING YOU SEE IS A LIE.

pairing: jason grace x f!neptune!reader

warning: jason is kinda a bop in this, reader is referred to as a blonde

a/n: wrote this at 4am so it’s probably really stupid, but i was thinking of writing hcs for a part 2? idk would y’all read that?

growing up at camp jupiter meant being a soldier, a warrior with no life outside of their duties, a disciplined demigod with no mistakes ever made. this mindset messed up a lot of the kids’ mind, awarding them with different mental illnesses that they wouldn’t be experiencing if their lives were just, normal.

normal could mean a lot of things, but jason grace lost the touch of it a long time ago.

what was normal? being a mortal in high school or spending his everyday life in camp jupiter?

none of these options were available to him, because in the middle of his quest to save the queen of the heavens, he felt more confused than ever, his memories slowly coming back, but in little snippets, unnecessary things were being brought back to him, such as a certain scent that reminded him of… he didn’t remember who. he was surely going crazy.

and the blurred face of a girl he saw every time he ever got the chance to fall into hypnos’ domain certainly did not help the situation. maybe he did something so terrible in the past that he didn’t even get the chance of sleeping undisturbed, but what did he do? he didn’t even remember.

the question that bore into the mind of a mere reader would’ve been, 'what did he even remember?’ an oblivion, absolute nothingness.

and his two apparent friends, leo and piper.

while piper seemed to not be much of a friend, she still kept her patience.

jason, being the selfless soul he was, always managed to put everyone else before himself, he was worried that he was breaking piper’s heart by his amnesia, which, by the way, was not his fault either, but who else was there to blame? truthfully, no one.

while the quest was ongoing, he managed to get used to being apart of the trio, managing to fall more and more in love with the mystery that was piper mclean, or so he thought.

piper was absolutely gorgeous, in her own unique way, she was something to be looked at, to be admired and treated with care and love, but the world that they got exposed into, certainly was not up to the standard jason wanted piper to be put at.

she was also a total knockout, pretty, smart and really unique, what more could a guy want?

right?

then why did the ocean breeze randomly flow through his nostrils when jason was not anywhere near an ocean? what about the blonde soft wavy hair he always saw in his dreams, or the laugh he heard during one of those dreams. something about the girl in his dreams made jason’s life way more complicated, he could not get her out of his head, but how could he? it’s like the gods above truly did not want anything to be remotely normal in his life.

was it all just a set-up, was he cursed? or was he simply going insane over a woman he had never met? it had to end.

apparently the blonde from his dreams did not even exist, he described her to a lot of people, but not one person in camp half-blood knew anything, so he gave up.

the argo II had to be built and they had to fight mother earth, gaea, along with quite a lot of giants, girl problems could wait.

while keeping himself busy, he found his sweet escape to be piper, maybe what was between them was real, it wasn’t just venus having “fun” for a bit and making him insane? he still got dreams from time to time, but they didn’t corrupt his whole time.

but a few months passed, his and piper’s relationship was going well, they were just days away from going to camp jupiter, while going there to find the rest of the eight demigods from the great prophecy was the goal, maybe he could find her there?

and just like that, thoughts and dreams about the mysterious ocean girl slowly came back.

until the day they finally landed in camp jupiter. pieces of jason’s memory came back to him, but not all of it, but everything seemed to click the second he got the chance to actually look around the (not-so) familiar territory.

his hand intertwined with piper’s, he entered camp jupiter, he noticed annabeth running off to a black haired boy, who he assumed to be percy jackson, since that was the guy everyone seemed to be looking for ever since his arrival.

but right next to percy, stood a girl, but not just any pretty girl, her.

the girl from his imagination.

she quickly noticed jason, running over to him and pulling him into a hug, he noticed slight tears in her eyes that weren’t willing to spill.

jason was stunned, his hand was still holding piper’s, until it wasn’t, he felt it let go.

but jason had your arms around him, which felt better than anyone elses.

“i missed you, jase.” you said quietly, in a tone barely above a whisper.

“i-i’m sorry, i don’t remember.”

“percy told me it was a possibility, i just never thought you’d forget me, after all that we’ve been through. he remembered things about annabeth, did you really forget all about me?” a single stray tear managed to escape your eyes, raised in camp jupiter, crying was not something you were used to, but given the circumstances, what else were you supposed to do? sit around and smile like nothing happened, like you didn’t just realise that the love of your life forgot about you? “no, i’m sorry, it’s not your fault, i can’t blame that on you.” you quickly added, noticing how much pressure you put on the boy you loved.

“jason, what’s going on?” that was the voice of the girl jason came back with, sweet as honey. did he find a replacement? have you commited a sin so unforgivable that the gods had to punish you this way? he held her hand, they came in happily, you weren’t needed.

“i don’t know, look, let’s just go and find annabeth, she’ll know what to do.” jason simply shrugged away from your uncounter, living the girl of his dreams in tears, standing there, empty.

and it certainly did not help that jason and his newfound girlfriend were on the ship too, so you couldn’t really be miserable all the time.

you had to put in the effort.

that same night, as you were about to go to bed in your cabin, percy came in to check on you and you suddenly got the urge to tell him about all of your emotions and thoughts, since he was a great listener and also probably the only person who could cheer you up.

so you told him, if you couldn’t trust your brother, who could you trust? you told him some details he didn’t already know about your and jason’s complicated relationship and about him and his new girlfriend.

jason’s cabin was the one opposing yours, so he got a bit confused and almost opened the door to your cabin, but he heard your voice, and his name a few times too, so he did something absolutely irresistible, eavesdropping.

“it was complicated for so many years, and when we finally confessed, 3 months later he just disappeared one morning, i count every minute he was a way, and he came back with a new girlfriend, what did i do to venus so horrible? she gave me a hair comb once after a quest, she doesn’t like hate me or something, right? or does that mean my hair is really messy?” you kept on rambling.

“shh, i don’t know about jason, but if he’s willing to break your heart like that, i’m not gonna be okay with it, goodnight, y/n.” percy kissed your forehead.

“night, perce.”

just as percy walked out of the cabin, he saw jason standing by the door.

“hope you heard all that, buddy.” he mumbled.

if jason thought he was going insane months ago, he for sure knows he’s insane by now.

around a week has passed since that night, jason admired you from far away, getting reminded of why he fell in love with you all those years ago.

it was a quiet evening, some calm and peace, the typical calm before the storm vibes were around.

and it sure ended up being a storm that night for jason grace. he had been thinking about ending things with piper, since remembering things were making him all confused, all of the fake memories were faded too, so their relationship was hanging by a thread, which piper tore that night.

“we need to talk.” piper exclaimed, her tone sounded serious, not the usual cheery and soft.

“is everything okay?” jason asked, knowing that in fact nothing was okay, but he could only use a filler sentence, he didn’t have much of a heart to say anything else.

“what’s going on with you and y/n? i know you two dated, but i see the way you act around each other, you’re not over it, neither of you, and whatever this is going on with us is simply not satisfying neither me or you, so, are you cool with staying friends?” piper stated casually, without much worry on her face.

“i’m sorry pipes, it wasn’t fair to you.” jason tried apologising, but got interrupted.

“it’s fine, but she loves you, i can tell, go talk to her before it’s too late.” that was it, the awakening point, jason immediately stormed into her cabin.

“i fucked up, i’m really in love with you.” he exclaimed, and boy, did that sentence change everything.

it did.

[drabblesandsnippets]

Snippet #3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female character (unnamed)

Background: Edited scene of something I wrote for a friend

Summary: All Bucky wants is to make his girlfriend’s day better.

Warnings: 18+ Only. Sexual content. Romance/fluff. Praise.

---------------------------

From the second she walks in the door, Bucky can tell things had only gotten worse in the couple of hours since they talked. He knows better than to bombard her with questions, giving her space after they share a brief hello, letting her come to him after she changes into her normal oversized shirt and sweatpants. 

He gives her a warm smile when she reappears, the sight of her never ceasing to make his heart race, even with the messy bun atop her head and the t-shirt that’s seen better days. He loves every single part of her, and his favorite moments are when he gets to see the parts of her that she only shares with him. The vulnerable moments, the small pieces of her that she hides from others, scared of their judgements. She gets to let go of all the masks with him, and it’s one of the most beautiful things he gets to witness.

Bucky can tell all she needs right now is for him to listen, without the need to offer any sort of advice, and he's more than happy to be her sounding board. He actively listens to all the silly frustrations that managed to get under her skin today, the stupid things that made her ready to pull her hair out.

By the time she’s released all the pent up feelings, she’s finally beginning to relax, but Bucky’s still not satisfied. He ignores the old-fashioned part of him that wants her to quit her job, leave all the frustration behind, and be a house wife. He blinks away the brief image of coming home to her wearing nothing but an apron, his cock twitching at the thought, and instead talks her into a massage.

It doesn’t take much convincing. Within moments, she’s laying on their bed, Bucky straddling her legs as he rubs the tension out of her back and shoulders. She loses track of time, allowing him to take care of her, happily letting all other thoughts leave her, only vaguely aware of the almost pornographic noises coming out of her.

Bucky’s far from wanting to complain though. He’s getting to touch her, make her feel better, and listen to her moan - three of his favorite things. He ignores his growing erection for now and keeps his focus on the massage, paying attention to all her sore spots while easing up on the sensitive areas of her back. He smiles at the soft sounds leaving her with each movement of his hands, suddenly feeling grateful to have her trust. 

He slowly works his hands back up to her shoulders, leaning forward slightly as he rubs the tension there, telling her, “Thank you for letting me take care of you.” There’s no need for her to speak, her little noises of appreciation more than enough to satisfy him, his hands never stopping their magical touch. She can barely remember her name at this point, let alone anything else that’s happened today, and that’s exactly how Bucky wants it.

“You’re always taking care of everyone else,” he continues, the palms of his hands moving down the center of her back, letting up on the pressure just a bit. “But, I know it’s hard to let people take care of you, so thank you.” She turns her head slightly to hear him better, but keeps her eyes closed as a slight blush colors her cheeks.

She loves being praised by him, almost as much as Bucky loves praising her, but it still makes her flustered, especially if they’re not in the middle of sex. Sometimes even then too. She can’t see it, but Bucky’s smile grows at her reaction and he changes tactics, his fingertips starting to lightly trace up her back, sending a shiver down her spine. 

“How about you let me keep taking care of you?” he asks, the tenderness of his voice matching his touch, making her heart flutter. Coherent words left her a long time ago, but she still manages to voice her consent. And the moment she does, he leans forward again, his hand sliding up to rub against the back of her neck. “I’m gonna take my time,” he tells her, his breath warm against her ear, “give you everything you need tonight.”

She’s not even sure she responds, other than with a loud moan of need as her hips lift to reach him, his words making her body pulse with pleasure. Bucky’s body reacts to her desire, his own hips grinding against her, letting her feel how hard she makes him. As much as his cock wants him to just push her pants down and take her like this - she’d be more than willing - he’s a man of his word.

With the same measured pace, his hand slips underneath her shirt, the soft touch of his fingers along her waist causing goosebumps to spread across her skin. He undresses her slowly, his lips touching every inch of skin he exposes, whispering words of praise, leaving her panting for more. When he finally turns her over onto her back, he repeats the process, taking his time to pull her sweatpants down her legs, kissing a trail to her ankles.

“I’m so proud to call you mine,” he tells her once he settles back between her legs, his eyes roaming over her flushed body. She watches as his hand reaches down, almost subconsciously, to grab his cock through his jeans, clearly trying to relieve some of the pressure. She wants to tell him he’s too overdressed, that she wants to feel more of him, but all she can do is look up at him, silently pleading for more.

There’s time for teasing, but not tonight. With a quick pull, Bucky removes his shirt and tosses it off the bed, barely giving her a chance to appreciate his body before he’s on her again, meeting her in a passionate kiss. They lose themselves in the intimate connection, their need for each other growing until they finally part and Bucky rests his forehead gently against hers, breathing heavily. “You’re so incredible,” he tells her. “You’re so strong.”

He starts peppering kisses along her skin again, across her jaw before dipping down to her throat. “Intelligent.” His kisses move to her collarbone. “Kind.” With each word, her mind starts to fully relax again, accepting the praise, her body trembling with need. And just before his mouth closes over her nipple, he reminds her, “And the hottest fucking woman I’ve ever seen.”

---------------------------

Main Masterlist

[i-cant-sing]

OK POOKIE! i saw my message went thru 🥸

i remember a while ago you were like “look at y/n with all these time period yanderes and little snippet ideas of how they act,,,” AND THEN THE LAST THING OF PART 7 IS Y/N DIDNT LOOK AT THE TIME AND JUST PRESSED THE TIME MACHINE BUTTON ,,, my theory is that ur different-time-periods-yanderes r going to make an appearance in your time traveler AU 😎 if so, ur a genius and I AM ASWELL

Also i like how crazy u made Baldwin. honestly i lowkey forgot he thot y/n was an angel and that he’s actually super smart. idk if u did that on purpose tho cos i was like “oh he’s dumb in love” w/ how you write him but then, offhandly mention how he won a war at 16 or that he genuinely believes y/n has magical powers. like ik he’s smart but i feel like ur smarter with the way you made me forget how smart he is. or i might just be forgetful ,

it kinda makes me sad that y/n didn’t get to say a genuine goodbye to sultan but honestly…she didn’t have the time to. she had to move fast. WHICH, i really liked how fast the ending was. it was BAM we find out he’s crazy. BAM wedding. BAM we run away. BAM we on a cliff. BAM WE JUMP OFF CLIFF cos tbh when u find out the person u love is crazy and has been manipulating everything around since the start u kinda just…roll with the punches until u find a way out.

i liked that Guy died. even if baldwin set up the situations to make it seem like Guy was behind it, Guy still said really infuriating things. Baldwin didn’t tell him to call us hoes. Guy called us a ho3 , that stupid bitch.

This is- this is EXACTLY how I wanted someone to react to my works. Details, reactions, everything. Come here, baby- you're my favourite person now. Let me give u a smooch🫶

There will be different time periods reader will go to now, and I have a few in mind (I am very excited for the two of them, but one more than the other but I can't write that one yet because then the less exciting one will lose its charm but godddd do I wanna rush this to my fav time period). Lol and I made a list of time periods/historical figures that had potential and idk why but I wrote down Columbus but then I looked him up and I was like... nvm.

[goldencuffs]

woke up to news of ur new snippet!!!! yay yay yay yay doing cartwheels im so excited it's insane, i love everything u have written and the fact that u r continuing to write and post is so crazy and im so grateful, i wrote this ask while doing another cartwheel

stopppppppppppp omg you're too bloody nice!!!!! 🥹😭😭😭😭😭😭

tbh im still shocked im still here but then again im not damen and laurent truly never leave my mind!!!! also i love you a lot so here is a small dumb little snippet that shows a little bit more about damen and laurent's dyanamic hehe 😋

Damen's hair was already starting to grow out; less buzz cut now, more of a tuft. It was ridiculous he made it work, especially because his curls were also coming in. One stubborn one was forming over the top of his left ear.

His silver chain glinted under the light, and the shirt he was wearing was tight. It strained against his biceps, which shifted every time he lifted his glass. His tattoos jumped with each movement too.

Laurent's mouth was dry. He swallowed a large mouthful of the scotch and then topped up.

Outside, the cicadas had come out. Laurent tilted his head to look out at the stars, thinking about Aimeric and Ancel. He couldn't believe how stupid he had been, revealing his… thing with Damen like that. He should've… denied more. Not admit it all. Maybe laugh it off, wave his hand and say pshawwww me and Damen? Maybe he should have admitted to fucking someone else--like someone from the convenience store. Maybe he should have said he was a virgin. Anything but confirm that he'd been with Damen.

Aimeric had said they were brothers. That implied trust, bond. But Laurent had a real brother--and the biggest betrayal in their life had come from him. Not all brothers were good. Not all brothers could be trusted. Sometimes all they did was lie.

"…Laurent?"

"Hmm?" Laurent turned his head to Coach.

"Remember to clean up the kitchen before you go upstairs, okay?"

Laurent blinked, more alert. "You didn't clean up while I was outside?"

He regretted asking as soon as he did; Coach stared at him, befuddled. "No, that's your job, Laurent." he said this slowly, like he was explaining it for the first time. "Remember what I said, kid? A house can only function when we all follow our assigned responsibilities. Yours are cooking and cleaning and--"

Laurent stood up. Scotch sloshed over his fingers. "Right," he said, and left.

He'd heard that lecture a thousand times. Laurent cooked and cleaned and mowed and painted. Coach paid for the dishawasher and the microwave and cared for and about the Football Guys.

The cicadas were louder in the kitchen. Laurent stood in it for a moment, alone and  still, staring at the mess on the table--bowls and pots and spoons; evidence of life.  Once upon a time, it had always been like this; now the image was foreign and pulled at Laurent's heart.

Laurent worked slowly. The scotch had been stronger than he expected. His head wasn't spinning, but he was warmer than he had been a few minutes ago. It was probably because he was unusued to it; drinking, particularly on a weeknight, wasn't something he did.

He was thinking about Damen, too. Couldn't help it. Just knowing he was so close hurt.

He'd just put the last dish into the dishwasher when Coach came by. He smelt of scotch, which was so unusual, it made Laurent pause. But he seemed sober enough, and he kissed Laurent's temple sweetly. "Love you, kid," he said, and then headed from the stairs.

A few minutes later, Damen walked into the kitchen. Laurent froze, and then realised that Damen was probably going to slip out of the alfresco, because he was an asshole who refused to use front doors.

But Damen came towards him instead. His eyes were like two coffee drops, rich and deep as he leant against the counter top and watched Laurent wipe it down.

Laurent refused to break first--even as the silence in the ktichen grew thick and gelatinous.

"So," Damen said, when the counter tops smelt like lemon. "what's with your new twink group?"

Laurent rolled his eyes. He moved onto sorting the utensils. "Don't call them that."

"Uh huh." Damen's arms crossed. "They're the reason you're ignoring me now?"

Laurent looked up and scoffed, truly taken aback. "I'm ignoring you? Funny."

Damen watched him. Laurent went back to the silverware.

He tensed when he felt Damen come up behind him. He was warm.

Laurent inhaled sharply when Damen's arm came around his waist, pulling him flush.

He smelt stronger like this. Damen's chin dropped to Laurent's neck, rubbing the side of it. It tickled and Laurent squirmed. Damen held on tighter.

"I don't like sharing you," Damen said.

[mpregplease]

Remember how the last thing I wrote wasn't angsty?

Well... This snippet is very angsty so if that's not your cup of tea, don't read it ^^

---------

A cheerful guy who comes home from college looking a little softer than usual… He's on a break, so it's normal to be soft, but his childhood friend notices that it is a lot softer. More body mass, bigger hips, and a little bit of a belly. But he moves so slowly like he's in pain all the time, his cheery attitude has dimmed immensely, and while he tries to be cheery, there is that sad look in his eyes when he thinks no one is looking.

"You look well," The childhood friend says. "A little too well… You been eating alright?"

The college student tries to brush it off with a smile. It doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Oh, I've been eating fine. Just… Just tired from all the stress, y'know?"

"You've been stress eating?" The childhood friend asks, a little sceptical. It doesn't sound like him…

"Yeah… For months, I guess." He says, this time not smiling. A hand comes down to touch his abdomen, but it's quickly gone again. He looks embarrassed.

"You should see a doctor. It doesn't seem healthy, this weight gain, and you seem a little grey around the gills-"

"It's fine. It'll go away on it's own." The college student cuts him off curtly, then moves to leave, the pain in his body seeming to get worse. He groans out loud, a hand reaching to his abdomen again, holding it there until he can kinda stand upright again.

"Dude, you're in pain! I'm calling an ambulance-" The childhood friends says, but once again the college student cuts him off with an angry outburst.

"Don't you get it?! I just gave birth!"

It shocks the friend into silence. He doesn't know how to continue.

"I was pregnant and gave birth… And then I gave her up for adoption." He says as he ends on a sob. His hands go back down to his abdomen. He's shaking slightly.

"You… Got pregnant? By whom??" But the childhood friend already knows that he was the one who got his friend pregnant because of that one night they spent together 9-ish months ago.

"Doesn't matter. She's gone."

"Gone?" The friend inquires, but the college student just shakes his head.

"I gave her up for adoption. I couldn't care for her, couldn't do anything right… So they suggested that I gave her away."

Just the thought of not being able to see the child he helped create was enough to make the childhood friend angry. "You didn't think to involve me?!"

"You're younger than I am. You wouldn't stand a chance with a baby."

This makes the friend even more angry. "You're not kidding me, are you?"

It's at that moment that the college student takes his friend's hand and movies it to his chest. He can feel that it's fuller, and it might even be leaking a little. Soon the college student's shirt is wet from milk, the college student looking like he's moments away from a heartbreak. Maybe he's already had it.

"I just gave birth 4 days ago. They've been aching all the time since, but I can't give it to her. I can't do anything for her."

He begins to get misty eyed, and soon the breasts isn't the only thing that's spilling over.

"Would you ever let me see her?" The childhood friend finally asks, to which the college students says:

"It's impossible to find her again. She's gone."

He's crying again, this time silently but his breath hitching.

"I will find her. I promise I will."

This only makes the college friend sob even more, but soon he is embraced by his childhood friend who comforts him, whispering the promise in his ear again and again.

The end :3

[antivan-sprig]

Rook Wednesday- Love

Filing this under:

“Posts that make me go teehee 🤭”

About a day ago I was struck with the thought that I want Lis to have more secret little crushes on other Rooks in the RRAU so that I could utilize some love songs I have HCs about! (And you know, because it’s cute)

Lisel’s never had much time to develop interest in her colleagues, seeing that she was sort of a secret herself. So I imagine her being pretty excited and eager to develop these little one sided crushes (I think she struggles to understand the difference between crushes and wanting to be someone’s friend but either way…)

Anywho! Heres some snippets of songs sort of based off this series of mini fics I’ve been doing. Each has a particular Rook in mind but I’ll keep it anonymous because that’s more fun anyway ♥️

I don't know if I will ever be as bright as you

You could reach the tallest tree

While I'm just pulling through

Still you are planted right beside me

You are there to catch my fall

If you're all I have, my darling

I have got it all

Come what may, nightfall or daylight

Still I will be planted by you

Come what may, nightfall or daylight

Still I will be planted by you

You bewitch me

Every damn second you're with me

I try to think straight

But I'm falling so badly, I'm coming apart

You wrote me a note, cast a spell on my heart

And bewitched me

Bewitched me

You're not even gone

I already miss you

What's going on?

I've never been through

This all-consuming fire fuming

Cursing at the moon and losing all control and crying

'Cause I think I'm falling

Look, you got me crying on the train

You got me wishing for a time I called for mother

Hid under covers

And I know this always sounds the same

But I've been stuck to you like a shadow you can't shake off

Just let me take off and run

You had me going for some time

Taking the bait and swimming fast

I felt the tension

You had my attention

And you say there's other fish in the sea

Maybe for you but not for my undying conscience

You think it's obnoxious

So I think now it's time for goodbye

I am yours

Frame me and hang me

Or use me to find your last place in your book

I am strong

Or at least my perfume was

And touch me or don't, I'll still break

And when summer arrives, I'll still be here

And when autumn comes blowing I'll be here

Pressed and beloved or forgotten, that's all up to you

Paper thin and veins on display, I

Wait until I'm transparent and ready

Maybe now I'll be knowable

I can learn not to ache for your hands

I see desire in your wanting eyes

I see your dress undone

I see you look to the distant lights

Hear those engines hum

Darling stay right close to me

Do just as you should

For if you go in their company

Oh then you're gone for good

And finally, how Lisel thinks about her own romantic tendencies:

I won't send roses

Or hold the door

I won't remember

which dress you wore

my heary is too much in control,

the lack of romance in my soul

will turn you gray, kid

so stay away, kid

forget my shoulder

when you're in need

forgetting birthdays is guaranteed

and should I love you, you would be

the last to know

I won't send roses

and roses suit you so

[hannah-heartstrings]

It's WIP Wednesday Once Again

Tagged by @inkysqueed and @thequeenofthewinter, who I tag back! :D Along with @babyblueetbaemonster @druidx @katastronoot @the-sunlit-earth and anyone who wants to be.

When I posted the year old snow prompt snippet two weeks ago, I said that I originally thought it needed an intro.

I did write one I just never figured out how to get them from point A to point B (just to decide I didn't need to a year later XD) But while looking at the intro again, ideas for how to edit it popped in my head, and the next thing I knew, I had a new ficlet. (Oh writing XD)

So here's the original intro I'm now reworking, and then some notes about my edits below the cut:

            The sky was a white sheet of fog, purple tiled spires standing out against it. Flecks of snow drifted down into the streets.             A gust of wind sent some flecks swirling and blowing down the street across Lecrinn’s face. She laughed a little as she brushed the snow from her brown skin and hair. As she walked, she looked over the snow shimmering in the sunlight. “The snow’s so pretty I almost forget I hate to be cold,” she leaned more into Garrus’s arm.             “Do you want to go in?”             “Not yet.”

I like "snow shimmering in the sunlight" but to me it evokes the image of an empty field of snow, which isn't where they are. XD I think I should describe the town a little more. I remember thinking that when I wrote it, but at the time, writing felt like mental gymnastics, which is why I never finished this. XD

I feel like the back to back sentences about the flecks of snow should be the same paragraph.

I don't know how I only just now noticed that if the sky's that foggy, it isn't sunny. 😅 Gotta go add that to my edits now. XD

While rereading it, I don't know why, but I thought Garrus's dialogue at the end should be "we're almost there" instead, which led me to wonder what "there" was, and the ficlet just went from there. XD

And if it's one or the other, I think the sparkling snow fits the scene better than the sheet of fog.

Which means the fic is getting further and further from actually looking like this snippet. XD

And I can't wait to show it to you guys. It's small but pure sugar, like a Christmas cookie. XD

Now I just gotta finish baking it. 😅

[autumncrocus-hyperfixations]

The Full Convo from Chapter 12 of Watch The Flame Burn Your Hands

Contains spoilers for my fic Watch The Flame Burn Your Hands!!

In Chapter 12 [Reversing Your Failures], there was a conversation that Vic, Mitsi, Agent, Chrome Alumn, and Dr Moonstone had while Chosen was under sedation and recovering. But you only get to see snippets of that conversation in Mitsi's memories & when Vic was having a panic attack.

I had written out that entire conversation before deciding to scrap it because it was too much dialog for me. But I'd like to share that conversation I wrote, as a little behind the scenes or whatnot.

Before you read, just keep in mind I did minnamil editing. Some parts aren't well written, and I don't think I even settled on a pov. It is mostly dialog. 1k words.

Chapter 12 Extra - The Full Convorsation

In the end, it took seventeen hours to finally get a solid update on Chosen's condition. 

Dr. Moonstone came in, followed by Chrome Alum, the super-bioengineer that helped Vic make a lot of the custom devices they used. It surprised them that she was here though…

“We have… news to tell you, some of it will not be easy to process.”

“Is Chosen alive?” Agent asked bluntly. He had explained to Mitsi and Vic both how Chosen was the last he saw him, and… it wasn't good.

“Chosen is alive.” Alum said to everyone's relief in the room. “but I wouldn't start celebrating yet. His vitals are stable right now, but we're unsure if they will stay that way.”

“We got their vitals stabilized just over two hours ago. Chosen was given life support immediately, and is now on an ECMO machine and a ventilator, but in due time they will likely be able to be weaned off both. He has an IV giving him nutrients, fluids, and medication. Chosen seems to be… getting better.” Dr. Moonstone shifted nervously.

“We don't need to sugarcoat it for them, Moonstone.” 

She took a calming breath. “Last night, when our staff checked Chosen’s vitals and drew blood, there were warning signs that were ignored. Even before that- when Chosen had first arrived- they should have been given immediate care for their malnutrition, even if ultimately they were to end up in a similar state as last night. But we should have caught symptoms and treated them earlier than we have. On behalf of everyone on my medical team, we sincerely apologize for our neglect. It could have costed Chosen's life-”

“It did.” Alum said bluntly, causing the room to freeze.

“Chrome-” Dr Moonstone scolded.

“What do you mean? You said Chosen was alive-”

“-and Chosen is alive.” Alum rubbed her nose bridge. “But Chosen couldn't have- shouldn't have- survived in the condition he was in.”

“Explain Alum.” Vic demanded.

But Dr. Moonstone spoke first, “Chosen’s health started to dramatically decline in between the two times we checked him. Muscle weakness, high heart rate, multiple panic attacks that depleted oxygen, weekend immune system, dehydration, electrolyte imbalance, and nutritional deficiency, eventually caused the risk of organ failure, and he was going into shock because of their rapid decline when we checked the second time, and nobody caught it.

“Since Chosen did not receive medical care, their condition worsened, and because of the strangulation The Dark Lord caused, it sped up the rate of decline and Chosen's organs did not have enough oxygen or blood circulation to keep functioning correctly. He went into heart and respiratory failure, causing the rest of the body's functions to start failing alongside it. When Chosen arrived back here, they were in critical condition. Because Chosen couldn't be admitted to a hospital due to his… history, we worked with what we had here… We did our best- I made sure of it- but nobody was going to be able to survive what The Chosen One was going through.”

“except Chosen did.”

“Vic, do you remember exactly how the power-suppressant cuffs work?” and oh- that's why Alum was here. She helped engineer the cuffs with them. The ones Chosen had been forced to wear… “They deplete the power's energy supply completely of the wearer, much like draining a battery. They worked well- too well. During the trials, the animations who wore the devices were immediately unable to use any powers- and I know you weren't interested in the after effects at the time, Vic, but when taking them off, it took hours to days to weeks in order for them to fully fill their power's energy supply back to a-hundred percent.”

“... and Chosen?” Mitsi tentatively asked, scared of the answer. Vic squeezed her hand.

“We have reason to believe that Chosen not only has an extremely large storage capacity for his power's energy supply, but also some sort of extraordinary rejuvenation and healing.” Moonstone

“Thanks to our research for the power suppressants… we have a way to monitor power levels as well as their energy reserves.” Alum.

“Chosen’s energy supply is at seven percent right now, it was lower when they started treatment.” Moonstone

“Chosen should have died- but his powers kept him alive, just above water, or more accurately, it pulled him back up after dipping below.” Alum

“We theorize that because of this ability, in the past Chosen was somehow keeping themself from starving by using his powers- as nobody could survive off of just letters alone- but when the cuffs were applied…” Moonstone

“Without their powers, Chosen's body struggled to survive on its own, leading to their rapid decline.” Alum

“Chosen was dying from the moment we caught him…” Vic realized in horror. “I-i-i. . was killing him-”

“... I highly doubt he had any good intentions, but if The Dark Lord didn't remove the cuffs from them when he did, Chosen’ energy supply might not have recovered enough to revive themself.” Moonston?

“He was dying, oh Code…” Mitsi whispered, glassy eyes filled with tears.

“He died thirty-four times from the time he was brought in and now.” Alum said bluntly. Dr. Moonstone gave her a look, silently telling her to at least try to be more sensitive about the topic.

“It's unlikely that they will die and revive again due to our monitoring and treatment, and because of Chosen's ability to heal themself beyond what we could ever do for them- he might make a promising recovery. However, this could take a while, we still don't know where the energy for powers come from, but depending on their rate to restore it, that will impact recovery time. However long it will be, It will take a long, long time for Chosen to reach his max energy capacity.”

“He is currently under sedation while on the ventilator and during early recovery, so he is less stressed and less likely to experience pain or discomfort. They may wake up eventually while sedated, but probably will lack speech function when even off the mechanical ventilator and may not be able to understand you for a while.”

“But we can see him?”

“Yes, as long as his vitals are stable in the safe ranges, and if recovering smoothly, he is allowed visitors.”

“Thank the Code…”

~

Thanks for reading <3

[ali11125]

god i really should post something here before my blog disappears into obscurity

um um um

KING OF SOPH FLUFF WIP

before you ask: no i have not proof read this, yes i wrote this about 2 months ago and havent read it since, no i will never finish it cause its a shitty plot in an au i don't give 2 shits about, yes nothing makes sense because i was probably high when i wrote this, no i dont even remember what happens, no this is not a testament to my general writting style i was trying something different and it failed, please let this flop, yes this entire thing is "he would not fucking say that" but also im new to fandoms/fanfic writing, can you tell im nervous to post this?

CW: none

Word Count: 1,062

The snow as it hits the ground

The gentle snowfall in the Kingdom of Skill was never something surprising, yet to Brent it was always a nice welcome to the day. While the cold was never his favorite, he could never deny the elegance a fresh coating of snow brought to the kingdom. Or perhaps he favored the way snowflakes gently whisked to the ground, or maybe it was the found memories he had with his family before-

A gentle knock stopped him from finishing that thought. Slowly, he rose from his perch at the window sill, and walked over to answer the door who's knocking never stopped. He pressed his hand against the door as he opened, making sure to do it as slowly as possible–it had become a habit to do so for whatever reason. Well he knew the reason, he just didn’t want to admit it.

As soon as he saw it to be Sophist, he opened the door fully, a warm smile crossing his face without his command to. He knew Sophist was never fond of the snow, if anything he actively hated the cold. Though anytime he pressed for answers all he got was “some shit in my past,” which just had to be as vague as possible. Before Brent could truly question it Sophist welcomed himself into Brent’s room, plopping himself on his bed as the complaints came in immediately. “Bro why does it have to be snowing, now I can’t get anything done.” The annoyance in his tone was undeniable, though maybe a bit of sarcasm was sprinkled in.

Brent gave a slight chuckle at the absurdity of it. “It’s literally only like two inches, it's not even that bad.” Sopshit chose not to take the easy jab at the lude joke Brent set him up for, instead responding to the comment with an answer he knew Brent already learned, “Well I can’t go to my observatory cause its snowing, plus its like super cold in there, and you know I don’t like the cold.” 

“You’re living in the Kingdom of Skill, it snows like every week.”

“Doesn’t mean I like it,” he replied, a bit too sly.

Brent sighed. He was getting nowhere with this. He walked over to his bed, taking a seat behind Sophist letting his head rest on his lap as Brent ran his hand through his hair. A comforting silence filled the room. Brent never minded these moments, he actually found them quite comforting. It was a warm reminder it wasn’t just those snippets of dialogues he fell for. It was the person behind those. A slight blush brushed his cheeks.

He could tell Sophist didn’t think the exact same. He nervously scratched at his wrist, eyes never quite landing in one spot as they jumped around the ceiling, sometimes stealing a little glance at Brent as he still stroked his hair, though that never lasted for more than a moment. 

Brent finally let Sophist out of his misery, killing the silence with a question he asked countless times before, “Why do you hate the snow so much?” Finally his eyes landed on Brent, staring at him blankly–maybe he was looking for something, or maybe it just took him a second to process the question–before snapping back to his fidgety state and answering the question, “Told ya some shit that happened, like, ten years ago.”

“What happened?” Brent’s eyes never left his own hands, them running through Sophist’s hair must have been the most interesting things. Sophist’s nails dug deeper into his skin, his mind seemingly unaware of the stim. His eyes never held still for more than a few moments, constantly glancing at Brent’s expression now definitely trying to find something. The silence, this time, made both uneasy. Brent interjecting, deciding to give Sophist an out this time, “-that is if you’re comfortable to share. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Oh how badly he wanted Sophist to tell him, yet he gave a reassuring sympathetic look instead of conveying it. He would never force his boyfriend to confess something he wasn’t ready to. (..Right?)

“I don’t know it was just,” He struggled to find the right word. He looked a bit more directly at Brent–at least he was making an effort. His eyes were never allowed to hold eye contact with his boyfriend for longer than a split second. “-It was just something. I don’t think I can explain it.” 

Brent hummed for a second before remembering he should actually say something, finally shifting his gaze to give a simple smile at Sophist as he spoke, “It’s ok, you can tell me whenever you’re ready.”

Both slipped back into the makeshift routine they so quickly fell into this position, neither truly wanting this moment to end, but both wanted something slightly more. 

Brent let the moment linger for a bit longer before readying himself. He let his hands slip out of Sophist hair–he so badly didn’t want to– and leaned back a bit, using his now free hands to brace himself. Sophist finally looked at Brent for longer than a few moments, trying to read what was on his mind. 

Brent finally spoke up, “Look listen we don’t have to if you don’t want to, but do you want to go outside, just for like, 15 minutes? Just me and you in the castle garden.” Sophist definitely wasn’t expecting that. His eyes immediately looked to the sheets surrounding him, this time tightening his grip on his wrist. 

The words came out of his mouth before he could tell them to not, “Um sure.” Fuck what was he getting himself into? Welp he was in too deep now. “But only for the 15 minutes.” 

Brent immediately perked up, his eyes scanning over Sophist’s face, surprised this stubborn ass man was actually agreeing to it. “Wait really?”

“Eh fuck it really don’t care right now,” Sophsit sat up as he tried to act not terrified. He stood up grabbing his hat and cap he hung at Brent’s chair when he first came in. “Now stop just sitting there before I take it back,” fake confidence was covering the statement, he just hoped Brent wouldn’t notice. Brent took the hint and, seemingly in a rush, jumped out of his bed to grab his own cape, joining Sophist by his side as the two walked outside.

[faytelumos]

A Month of Kisses, #5

You know what, it has been such a long time since I wrote a kissing scene.

@justalittleminishnamedmouse, @mr-orion, @rfallfish, @tildeathiwillwrite, @thelazywitchphotographer

Also @those-damn-snippets because I think you might enjoy?

allergens: spicy

This might be in the top 3 spiciest things I've posted. Maybe. Whoops. (not sorry)

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Henchman watched Supervillain work, still wearing the little, conical party hat from hours earlier. "My first birthday!" it read. A fun little joke for a party of two. A sweet celebration of a year of service.

Henchman watched Supervillain pour over maps, schematics, finances, reports. Whatever it was she was doing now. Planning the next move. Preparing for the next step.

A year ago, Henchman had submitted her pathetic little resumé and interviewed via phonecall in a public park (by far the strangest interview she'd ever had). She started that same day, and looking back on it now, she better understood the bizarreness of that first meeting. Of the way Supervillain got Henchman disoriented and vulnerable in some unfamiliar alley before exposing herself to view. Testing her tolerance before letting her in.

Supervillain had been terrifying in that moment, boxing Henchman into a dead end, silhouetted by the afternoon sun. She had been a goddess. A nightmare. A force of nature. Henchman's vision of the job changed then from processing inventory orders to dragging bodies into dumpsters. And then two hours later, she was calling a dry cleaner and disputing an outrageous charge.

A year. How had they only known each other for a year? Henchman couldn't even imagine what her day would be like now without Supervillain. It was like trying to remember how she lived without a phone. Every morning she made breakfast for the two of them, then started making calls and arrangements. Every night they sat down to dinner, talking about all of the things that had moved and happened during the day. Supervillain moved around her all the while between, making motions and pulling strings, orbiting like some personal Jupiter caught up in Henchman's tiny gravity. Sometimes, there was an operation, and Henchman paced anxiously at their little base, their little home, praying and praying that Hero or Superhero didn't notice. Didn't try to intervene. Didn't leave Supervillain in a broken mess, calling Henchman to come get her, to scoop her limp, shimmering, dripping body into the back seat of their beat-up sedan.

Yes. Looking back on it now, even after such a short amount of time, Henchman had been completely smitten. She had fought the man on the other end of that phone like she was some kind of knight raising a sword at a dragon. She smiled at the memory now, even stifled a chuckle, as Supervillain scribbled something on a sheet of paper.

Henchman watched Supervillain now. Her skin was damp with her concentration. If she wasn't focused enough on her shape, she would always seem to melt a little but. Like ice cream. Just enough to soak the clothes she was wearing and the seat or the bed she was on, but not enough to fall apart. Sometimes, it was cute. Sometimes, it was terrifying.

It had been a long year. A long year of getting to know Supervillain. Of learning her. Of figuring out her needs and learning to anticipate them. Realizing why Henchman was doing the kind of work she was doing. Why she was always talking to the dry cleaner or the internet company, why she was the one who talked during their back alley deals, why she was the one who delivered letters and thank-you cards. Supervillain was powerful. In a fight, she was terrifying, a whirlwind, a natural disaster made flesh. But she was also scared. Scared of people. Scared of rejection. Scared of loneliness.

Henchman thumbed the elastic strap of her party hat where it crossed under her jaw. Supervillain had gotten her a cake and everything. Those watery lips of hers, dark and full, had pulled into the biggest smile Henchman had ever seen. Henchman couldn't be sure, even now. But it seemed to her that there was some amount of fear that Supervillain was always holding that had slipped away, just for the party.

Watching her now, maybe it was there again. Some underlying anxiety. Some twinge of a secret terror. They had been together a year, and yet there was still some part of Supervillain that thought Henchman… didn't want to stay? Didn't want to be here? Was afraid of her?

"My first birthday!" That's what her hat said. She wondered for the first time if any of Supervillain's other relationships, friendly or otherwise, had lasted this long. "My first birthday!" "My first friend!"

…What about, "My first love!"

Supervillain was different. Henchman couldn't read her like she read other people, not exactly. But there had been that underscoring tenderness and affection at the party that had made Henchman cry. That had made her glad it was just the two of them. That had made her wish this day wouldn't end.

Maybe Supervillain did think Henchman might still leave.

So maybe… maybe Henchman should let Supervillain know why that wasn't going to happen.

She stepped forward. Walked quietly toward the desk. Supervillain looked up, with all of her graceful long lines and angles. The water on her skin shimmered in the warm overhead light. Henchman came to a stop by her chair.

"So," she said. Supervillain watched her. She reached up and tapped her nail against the party hat. "It's still my birthday." Supervillain smiled.

"I suppose that it is," she chuckled. Henchman smiled back.

"I was hoping…" She blushed. A year ago, she wouldn't have had the guts for this. "I was hoping for a birthday favor." Supervillain turned to face her, a bit more serious now.

"Name it," she commanded gently. Henchman blushed a little more, but she didn't look away.

"I was hoping… and, you can say no, I promise. But. I was hoping… for… a birthday, um, kiss."

Supervillain's eyes widened. A drop of water ran from her temple down to her jaw and over her throat.

"You can say no," Henchman assured her. Supervillain opened and closed her mouth, a little bit like a stunned fish.

"Yes," she whispered, so soft and so… delicate, that Henchman almost didn't hear it. Something in her chest flinched at the excited thrill that flared through her.

For a moment, Henchman was going to ask if she was sure. But the wide look in her eyes, the trio of water drops that ran down her face, and the way her eyebrows furrowed in that same way they always did when Supervillain was afraid she was asking for too much, answered Henchman's question for her.

Henchman was suddenly shaking a little as she reached forward, resting a hand on Supervillain's wet shoulder. She leaned in, and Supervillain tilted her head up, closing her eyes. Henchman smiled, giddy and pleased, and kissed her lips to Supervillain's.

Supervillain was warm, even as her shirt got wetter in Henchman's hand. Her lips were soft, and they still tasted a little bit like frosting. Henchman's heart was thumping in her chest, and she could hear Supervillain breathing heavier, could feel it across her lips. Henchman leaned in a little more, tipping Supervillain's head back just a little further, and tilted her head to the side. She kissed Supervillain slightly harder, cupped her other hand to the side of Supervillain's wet neck, felt her pulse strong and quick through Supervillain's veins. Henchman huffed, or maybe it was more like a sigh, something not the least bit decent or polite in her chest flashing its claws.

Henchman held Supervillain tighter, pulling back just long enough to suck in a deep breath, then kissed her harder. Supervillain hummed, or maybe moaned, and a wet hand was suddenly on the top of Henchman's shoulder, fingertips pulling her closer as Supervillain's breaths turned raspy. Henchman might have smiled normally, might have laughed to herself at the way Supervillain was still trying not to impose. Even as her skin turned hot and sodden, even as her heart raced and her chest heaved, she was still scared to ask too much. Still scared, maybe, of rejection.

Henchman's very thoughts darkened, shooting down two paths. On the one hand, she suddenly wanted to give Supervillain the whole world, beaten and subjugated and bowing down to her glorious, watery visage, never to refuse her again. On the other, she wanted to pull Supervillain into her chest, into her very body, so Supervillain could see herself through Henchman's eyes and know that she could never, ever reject her.

Henchman dipped her tongue experimentally between Supervillain's lips, and she shuddered and opened her mouth. Henchman groaned, sliding her tongue in along Supervillain's, fumbling to get herself into Supervillain's lap, swiping the party hat back to slacken the string under her jaw.

Supervillain's pants and the chair both squelched, warm, watery liquid soaking into Henchman's clothes every last place she pressed against her. Henchman cupped Supervillain's jaw with both hands, holding her like she was made of spun glass even as she kissed her breathless. Supervillain pulled away suddenly, gasping hoarsely for air, and Henchman blinked open her eyes just long enough to catch the long, graceful lines of her throat, water running over her skin in rivulets. Those claws in Henchman's chest flashed again, and a burning curiosity overwhelmed her, and she bent down and dragged her tongue up the swell of Supervillain's throat.

As Supervillain gasped aloud, her chest heaving, her body shaking, Henchman marveled at the salty-sweet taste of her. Even here, she tasted faintly like the birthday cake they'd shared. Interesting. How far did this go?

Supervillain swallowed thickly, and Henchman noticed with alarm the wet sound of her breaths. All at once, she seemed to slam back down into her body, realizing what she was doing. That she had invited herself onto her boss' lap, into her boss' mouth, that Supervillain's hands were shaking on her waist, that this was unprofessional, that she might love Supervillain, but that this was a job, this house was their workplace—

"I'm so sorry," Henchman gasped, pulling away—

Supervillain's hands turned into stone, pressing into Henchman's sides and back, immobilizing her. A thrill raced up Henchman's body so fiercely it nearly knocked the wind completely out of her. When Supervillain's grip softened again, Henchman didn't go anywhere. She breathlessly watched Supervillain shake her head, her jaw working, but all that came out were watery gasps and whimpers. Supervillain's body seemed to become wetter still, like she was thinking very hard about something, and Henchman realized she was trying to talk.

Henchman… had kissed her senseless.

Those claws flashed again. Henchman watched Supervillain's throat work, and this time, when she leaned in and licked, long and with panting breaths over wet skin, drawing a shiver and a whine up and out of Supervillain's throat, she was in complete possession of herself. She did it again, and the sound Supervillain made was so high, so thready, that those claws almost took control again. Maybe they did. Because Henchman started to wonder just how much like a puddle Supervillain could be. And just how many places Henchman could taste sugar on her.

[mermaidslabyrinth]

just dropping by to say that I'm quite intrigued by your "6 days after Luke's death" WIP and love to hear more!

Thank you for sending me an ask of my WIPs. This one was a toughy to pick a part that I wanted to show off (Because as a whole it was one of my favorites that I wrote for when Rhagerys is a little older than what I write the majority of my snippets for him). A little information first: Autumn of 136 AC [My timeline] Luke’s death is different than in the show. A dragon still kills him but it wasn’t Vhagar. Instead it was Cannibal. It was a tragic accident. No matter what anyone else thinks. Rhagerys and Aemond witnessed it but not too many people believe them when they tell what they saw.

Ages: Rhagerys, Aemond, and Jace: 20 Baela: 19 Rhaena: 17 Rhaenyra: 39 Daemon: 55 Luke at the time of his death: 18

There is a major spoiler revealed about Rhagerys. But I feel I'm never fully going to finish the story, so I don't mind giving it away.

<Scene: At an evening meal. 6 days after Luke was killed and Rhagerys severely injured. While they tried to escape an onslaught of arrow and scorpion bolts being shot from Dornish ships.>

“It should have been you!” Jace yelled at Rhagerys. “You should be dead, not Luke.” Hot tears were forming in Jace’s eyes. “It's your fault he's dead. Everything is your fault! You have been nothing but a thorn in the family’s side since our parents married.” Jace clenched his jaw to ward off the tears. He was going to say his words to Rhagerys without showing weakness. He was going to say what he had felt for his stepbrother since he was five and ten. “When you were gone during those two years traveling Westeros? There was a peace here. When you were gone that year at the Stepstones? There was a calm amongst the family. They were the only times this family felt normal. Felt right.” Jace harshly pointed at Rhagerys. “You have been nothing but a terrible stepbrother since you were five and ten.” Jace’s eyes showed pure fury. “Remember when I said that there is something wrong with you? When I told you that you were an odd creature? I meant it. I meant those words. You should not even exist.”

Rhagerys sat back in his seat and stared stoically Jace. He knew those words that so easily tumbled out of his stepbrother’s mouth were from pain. It was just barely a week ago he had to burn clothing to represent his brother’s body. Rhagerys wouldn’t say he understood Jace’s pain but he most definitely understood his anger.

Aemond sat quietly unsure what to do. In that moment the only true comfort he could bestow upon Rhagerys was to reach beneath the table and take his cousin’s left hand into his right. He gave it a light squeeze. A way to reassure and let Rhagerys know he was right by his side.

Rhagerys squeezed Aemond’s hand back. He had to let him know, wordlessly, that he understood Aemond’s gesture. That he understood that Aemond was there for him.

“Jace!” Rhaenyra tried to quell her son’s harsh words.

“It is the truth, Mother.” Jace looked to his mother. Jace turned his attention back to Rhagerys. “Think about it. How quickly did your mother and Daemon marry? There was no courting, no betrothal, they were married within less than a fortnight.” Jace slowly placed his hands upon the table. He leaned down to be at a level with Rhagerys. A small smile upon his face as he looked his stepbrother in the eyes. “Why do you think that was?” His voice was calm when those words left his lips. As if he was going to enjoy what was to come next.

Rhagerys glanced over at his father then back at Jace. The look upon Jace's face, the confident sneer, angered Rhagerys. At the same time the words started to swirl in his head. Rhagerys's mind started to put the pieces together. His face dropped just a little. Realization had taken a hold of him.

Those words were something that Rhagerys had honestly never thought about. Something that he never had any reason to question. The words Jace spat so easily started to settle in and weigh heavily in Rhagerys’s heart. He could have easily been a bastard. A noble bastard but a bastard. He could have easily been like Jace, Joffrey, Luke. But he would have been less than. He would have been a Stone or maybe a Waters but not a Targaryen.

“Jace, that is enough.” Rhaenyra admonished..

Jace stood to his full height and looked to his mother. “Why? Why does he,” Jace took a sharp breath in as he angrily pointed at Rhagerys. “why does he get to live in ignorance of what he could have been? Should have been.”

“Stop talking.” Daemon finally spoke up.

Rhagerys looked over at his father. His father looked back at him. The look in Daemon’s eyes was all Rhagerys needed to see. His father’s face gave nothing away but his eyes, they told Rhagerys that it was all true. Every word about his circumstances that Jace so eagerly hurled at him in anger, was true. That him being here, with this family, with this life, was built on a lie. His parents married because…of a chance Rhagerys would be born a boy. Not for love as his father had always told him. A son for the ‘Rogue Prince’ to claim fully as an heir. To parade around as his true born son. Everything Rhagerys became was because of Daemon Targaryen’s pride. It was because of Daemon Targaryen’s entitlement. Rhagerys existed for Daemon Targaryen and Daemon Targaryen alone.

Author's Note: Idk when I came up with the idea that Rhagerys just barely escaped being a noble bastard. But I thought it was too delicious not to have as part of who he is. Especially since he looks down on the Velaryon boys. And how Aemond truly feels about bastards as well. Rhagerys and Aemond's relationship could have been very different, maybe even nonexistent, if the truth was revealed sooner.

[whayjhey]

For the WIP game, tell me about the actor Anakin AU?😇😇

Hello! I wrote a silly AU with actor!Anakin a while back, which centers around the idea of Anakin getting the role for AOTC and starring alongside Padmé (their Star Wars characters are aptly named Hayden and Natalie in this universe lol). It's heavily inspired by how Hayden Christensen got the role of Anakin irl. Here are some snippets from a super, super rough draft:

"Yoooo." Kitster's grin matched his. "Imagine getting this role, man! It's mother-kriffing Star Wars! This is huge." "Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Anakin said, but deep down he was already getting giddy at the possibilities. "I still have to do this screen test." But his roommate was already doing the daydreaming for him. "You'd get to be as big as Qui-Gon! Remember? He was in that new one a few years ago." As if Anakin could forget. He was a huge Star Wars nerd. They'd been swinging pretend lightsabers in Kitster's backyard since they were little kids. "In Phantom, yeah." "Bet you're glad I was a shitty Santa Clause back in 'tooine, huh? Gave you the spotlight and everything." "I would've shined even without your shitty Santa." "If you don't include me in your acceptance speeches, you'd better start sleeping with your eyes open." "I haven't gotten the role yet, man," Anakin chuckled, but his heart warmed at his friend’s support. Kitster was ever supportive: "I've got a good feeling about this." There was a new tinge of excitement in their small apartment that night. Kitster turned his attention back to the boiling pot in front of him, and Anakin was about to grab his laptop from his room when- "Wait,” Kitster said. “Didn't Padmé Amidala play Natalie in Phantom?" Anakin's heart stopped. He might as well have died right then and there. "Duuuuuuude," Kitster guffawed at the way Anakin's jaw dropped. "Now you really have to get this role."

And here's him doing a screen test with Padmé:

And then there she was. Padmé Amidala in the flesh, sitting on the dark couch in front of him. Anakin wasn't sure if he was more nervous about the screen test itself or about meeting her for the first time. He briefly remembered Hayden's first words to Natalie in the first film: "Are you an angel?" Padmé had played a young Natalie then, but Anakin couldn't help but agree; she did, in fact, look like an angel. (He could almost see Kitster rolling his eyes at him. "You're such a stupid sap," he would probably say.) "Welcome, Anakin!" A woman he'd later come to know as Satine brought him out of his reverie. "Congratulations for making it into the short list for Hayden. This is Padmé Amidala, who plays our Natalie. I'm sure you read through the script we sent you?" Before Anakin could respond, Padmé surprised him by speaking. "Oh, I know you!" She said. Anakin's eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets. "I recognize you from The Bounty Hunter! It’s one of my favorite shows. You were in it, weren't you?" A small blush crept onto Anakin's cheeks. He'd been recognized by a few people before, sure, but he wasn't that big of an actor yet to warrant frequent attention. The fact that the Padmé Amidala knew who he was and she remembered him for a small role and she watched some of his work- "I was," Anakin replied before his brain could spiral. "I was fourteen then." Padmé gave him a teasing grin. He wasn’t sure if she was amused by how nervous he looked.  "My goodness, you've grown!" "So have you," Anakin said before he could stop himself. The blush on his cheeks grew even redder. "Grown more beautiful, I mean. Well, uh-" Anakin dude what are you saying??? "For a- for an actress, I mean." Padmé giggled. Anakin wanted to die. Behind them, Satine chuckled at the interaction. Anakin swore someone else behind them guffawed. (His stupid words eventually made it into his dialogue in the film. Satine said it captured Hayden's awkwardness and boyhood crush on Natalie perfectly.)

Thank you for the ask! <3

[dendrochilums]

little murderbot fic snippet I wrote inspired by the discord a while ago! it appears the cracker wrapper incident from rogue protocol left some lasting damage...

"Oh SecUnit! You're early!"

To be honest, Ratthi hadn't actually expected SecUnit to show up, but he was still pleasantly surprised to see it here. Since Gurathin's apartment on the station was too small for him to host his own birthday party, Ratthi had volunteered his own for the occasion. SecUnit had returned from its latest trip with the Perihelion quite recently, and Ratthi had figured that it would still be working on recharging its limited social battery, and unwilling to subject itself to even the small crowd that would be here. He gestured with an enthusiasm he hoped it would pick up on and said, "Come on in!"

SecUnit didn't reply verbally, but it sent an acknowledging ping to Ratthi's interface as it marched past him, followed by a small flock of its surveillance drones.

"I'm still getting some things ready in the kitchen, but feel free to make yourself at home," he called after it. SecUnit's idea of making itself at home involved more patrolling and hazard assessments than the average person's, but it was nice to see it feel comfortable here, in its own way. Ratthi hoped that the way he had arranged the decorations this time wouldn't get him another written notice about unsafe obstructions to the automated fire suppression system.

He closed the door, making a point to lock it behind him, and followed SecUnit down the hallway and into the kitchen, where he found it standing completely motionless, staring at his sink wearing the most appalled expression he could ever remember seeing on its face.

"SecUnit?" he asked. "...You okay?"

"There's a cracker wrapper in your sink," it said, pointing a finger at the offending wrapper. Its voice was flat, a striking contrast to its face, which now looked like it had when Ratthi told it that the newest season of Sanctuary Moon had been kind of boring.

Ratthi was too afraid to ask what kind of horrible security hazard could be caused by a stray cracker wrapper, but he carefully reached past SecUnit and fished the wrapper out of the sink and put it in the waste bin.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't know you were so tidy," he said, flashing a smile towards its shoulder. "I'll get things straightened up before the party starts, don't worry."

SecUnit was apparently too shaken to even acknowledge this. It kept its eyes focused on the now empty sink, which Ratthi quickly checked himself just to make sure there wasn't some insanely poisonous spider or something hiding there. Nope, nothing but some crumbs that he didn't think deserved this kind of horror.

The silence stretched on awkwardly. Ratthi broke it to say, "I'm just gonna--"

"I need to go check the perimeter. I'll be back soon," it interrupted, and it was out of the room before Ratthi could muster more than "Okay?" as a response.

Well, he supposed that everyone had their own eccentricities.